


Delicacies

by Rhaized



Series: Adventures of Mary and Marisa [2]
Category: His Dark Materials (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Marisa is not exactly delicate enough for certain kinds of advising, Marisa works in Mary's lab as a proper academic, Mary wants Marisa to learn more about mentoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:55:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27958745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhaized/pseuds/Rhaized
Summary: In her new life working with Mary Malone in her research lab, Marisa Coulter is learning more about how to advise doctoral students. It doesn't go as well as Mary would hope.
Relationships: Marisa Coulter & Mary Malone
Series: Adventures of Mary and Marisa [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073954
Comments: 5
Kudos: 52





	Delicacies

**Author's Note:**

> “Do you know who I could have been in this world?” Drabble of Marisa Coulter as an academic in Mary’s world.

Mary was smiling as she and Marisa walked down the hallway of St. Peter's College, Marisa's heels clicking lightly against the waxed flooring. They were starting yet another day working together in Mary's lab. It'd taken some time, but Marisa had worked through the appropriate channels of Mary's world to earn her doctorate and publish her first slew of papers entirely in her own name. Mary offered her guidance and moral support throughout the process, of course, but it was all Marisa's own doing. She was brilliant with a great capacity to synthesize complicated ideas. Mary was nothing short of impressed and thought it a true honor to work by her side. 

"Are you nervous?" Mary asked kindly as she opened the door to the office. As part of Marisa's increasing list of tasks and responsibilities, Mary had asked her to help her advise one of her doctoral students. Chelsea was a sweet girl in the third year of her doctorate trying to finish up her dissertation so that she could go work for a research firm in London. She was smart, and had great ideas, but didn't always know how to _express_ them properly. The chapter in question was the literature review chapter of her dissertation, which is meant to overview the biggest conversations in her particular vein of research and then lead into the gap she herself would fill. She just wasn't doing that, though, and Mary thought Marisa might be able to help her.

"Not at all," said Marisa, and she indeed didn't seem to be fazed. She set her bag down on a nearby chair and moved to retrieve the dissertation chapter sitting on her desk. Mary had asked the administrative staff to split Mary's office into two. Marisa's desk was directly to the right of the door against the wall, and Mary had moved her bookcase further toward the window and had cleared some shelves for Marisa. Even though the woman had to learn physics _proper_ in the way Mary knew it, she still brought some books from her own world, which stood markedly different from all of the others. Mary had looked at them a few times and found them profoundly fascinating, as well as disturbing. She still didn't understand the connection between theology and science but that was apparently a _sore spot_ for Marisa, so they never talked about it. 

"Remember, Chelsea gets nervous," Mary was saying as she fiddled with the French press. "It's very important you couch any criticism in constructive praise."

"But that's not the way it actually works, is it?" Marisa mused, spinning around in her chair to face Mary as she skimmed over the chapter. "We just got a paper back from reviewers last week and I believe they told us that we seemed to lack any _intelligible argument_."

"Well, that happens," Mary flushed, "but remember she's just a student. She's still learning and needs supportive encouragement." 

"Hmm," Marisa simply drawled, eying Mary curiously for a moment before sighing and turning back to the paper. 

An hour later there was a light knock on the door. Both Mary and Marisa stood up expectantly. 

"This is it," Mary whispered as she came over to the door. After smoothing down her skirt, Marisa smiled excitedly at Mary with so much enthusiasm that it was contagious. "Are you ready?" 

"Indeed," Marisa said with a solemn dip of her head. It was funny, the way she took things so seriously. She made Mary laugh with her general air of grandiosity.

"Alright. I'll be here the entire time, you know." 

"I know."

"You can simply ask and I can come over."

"I _know._ "

"Okay, okay! I'll get the door then."

Mary beamed as she let Chelsea in and took her over to Marisa's desk. The two had worked together briefly on their last paper in the lab so were familiar enough with one another. Marisa had really fit into their lab culture, despite some of the initial worries Mary had. She was a true team player, learning from not only Mary but the other scientists and even the graduate students. She'd asked Mary's other doctoral student Tyler, for instance, to show her more about coding so she could start writing programming. Mary was again just so incredibly impressed and thus eager to give Marisa some experience mentoring the next generation of scholars and thinkers. She had so much talent to share. 

"How are you doing this morning, Chelsea?" Marisa asked, voice flecked with warmth. That was a good start, Mary thought, smirking to herself as she turned back to grading her undergraduates’ papers.

She was trying not to eavesdrop _too_ much. Marisa was an accomplished and competent woman. She was _not_ a graduate student but a fellow academic who just had a tough time with the politics of her home world. She was by no means new or inexperienced in matters of research and writing. Marisa would be fine. 

When they got to the point where Marisa and Chelsea were discussing specific sentences and academic writing conventions, however, Mary started to worry. 

"You do love your adverbs, don't you," Marisa was saying, a laugh nestled in her voice. It was border-line mocking, almost, so Mary glanced up. 

"Oh, I suppose," Chelsea said dreamily. Mary thought she might not be sure how to take it. 

"I mean, do you have a _single_ paragraph without them?" Marisa pressed, flipping through the various pages. "There can be far too much of a good thing, dear. And I wouldn't even say adverbs are all that _good_."

"For me it's commas," Mary blurted out. Marisa and Chelsea stopped to look at her, Chelsea's eyes widened and Marisa's narrowed. Mary smiled, and noticed Chelsea seemed to settle down a bit. "Always adding them willy nilly everywhere. I don't even know why." 

"Well," said Marisa, eyes still locked with Mary's before turning back to Chelsea, "we can move past the adverbs for now. Just take a note to reconsider them. What I'm most concerned about, actually, is your entire section here on particle metaphysics."

"What about it?" Chelsea asked. Her voice was higher-pitched than normal. Mary could tell she was growing nervous. Mary tried to go back to her papers but her ears were trained solely on the conversation to her left. 

"There just isn't anything of substance in it," Marisa continued, writing something down on the page. "See this here? This is complete rambling about _other_ people. I want to know what _you_ think. The trick to literature reviews is to balance other scholars' voices with your own. You mustn't back off entirely or hide in their shadows as you have done here."

It wasn't that what Marisa was saying was _wrong._ What she said about literature reviews was true. One had to approach it like a conversation that they were guiding and facilitating, which requires a certain fleck of humility and authority. And it was indeed something that Chelsea struggled with, given the writing Mary had seen from her over the years. But it was the _way_ in which Marisa said it that struck Mary as problematic. 

"Okay, so what can I do?" Chelsea said then. She was frustrated, Mary could tell. But looking at Marisa, all Mary could see was a smug sort of amusement.

"Well, pretend that the scholars are sitting right in front of you," Marisa replied. That was interesting, Mary thought, dropping all pretenses of doing work to stare at them in full.

"Why?" Chelsea responded skeptically. 

"Because if you do that, then you can remember that they're just people," Marisa answered, voice swaying with a strange sort of passion. "Just men with small ideas that you can use for your own purposes."

"And women," Mary added, the frown evident in her voice. Chelsea glanced at her while Marisa didn't. "And most of them are colleagues we've actually met at conferences."

"The point is, Chelsea," Marisa went on, leaning forward to brush her hand across the girl's upper arm, "here in this literature review, I can teach you how to wield power over all of them. With your words, your transitions, your citations. You can take control. You don’t need to shy away from it."

"What the _hell_ was that?" Mary demanded once Chelsea had left and Marisa turned back to her desk. 

"What?" the woman asked, sparing Mary a puzzled glance before sitting back down. 

"You scared her!" Mary fumed. 

"I did _not,"_ Marisa tutted. "That girl has a serious confidence issue and I was only trying to help."

"What did I say about being supportive and encouraging?" 

"Did I not encourage her?" Marisa asked, whipping her head around to glare at Mary with so much intensity she almost looked away. "Is every single thing I said about her writing not entirely true?" 

"Well, it was," Mary stammered, "but that's not...it's not the way you advise students. They need delicacy."

"To hell with your delicacy," Marisa snorted, turning back around. "The world out there is vulturous for women. She needs to be prepared."

"I think _I_ can handle that part," Mary said hotly, "and _you_ can just stick to doing the tasks I ask of you. She's _my_ student and _my_ responsibility. I only wanted you to help with her writing because I thought you'd be good at it since you're quite an accomplished writer yourself."

Marisa's eyes flashed at the compliment but then she let out a long, pretty sigh, swiveling away in her office chair dramatically. "Suit yourself, Mary. But I don't beat around the bush, for you or for anyone.”

**Author's Note:**

> I just love writing about Mary and Marisa so much. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I can't get them out of my head. I hope you enjoyed :)
> 
> And, again, shout to i-dont-like-donuts on tumblr for helping me figure out how to refer to the kind of coding Mary and Marisa would be doing here! :D


End file.
